


A Morning Ritual

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Amon Ereb, Ficlet, Gen, Hugging, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Amrod and Amras share a moment of peace.





	A Morning Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> For my prompt 'a moment's peace' in the Fëanorian Fun Bingo.

Amon Ereb was a well-planned castle. It had five towers, one at each corner of the walls around it, and one high tower in the middle. There Amrod could usually be found of a summer morning, watching the sunrise, if Amras missed him upon awaking. 

It was after first light, but not yet dawn, when Amras woke suddenly, as though someone had called for him. He glanced across to Amrod's bed in their shared room to find that he was gone. 

Amras slipped on a light pair of house shoes and slid quietly through the halls. It was too early even for the bakers to wake and prepare breakfast, and everything was perfectly still and cold, with the freshness of an early summer morning. 

Amrod was waiting for him at the top of the high tower, looking out eastward to the dawn. He did not move when Amras opened the door but Amras knew by the very set of his shoulders that he was welcome. He came up and slipped his arms around Amrod's waist, holding him close, and looked out over his shoulder. 

Pale pink tinged the clouds, spreading out like great wings heralding the dawn. A few bright stars still lingered in the blue and dim west, fading one by one. Far in the distance, the Blue Mountains were misty with early fog rising from the streams and rivers of Ossiriand. 

Amrod relaxed back into Amras's arms, and let out a long, slow breath. Amras responded by drawing him closer. In the cool breezes of the early morning, his brother was warm against him. The land was still, save for the chirps of early birds and the occasional flutter of wings. 

They were breathing in unison now, their heartbeats automatically syncing together. Amras had the feeling, stronger at these times than any other, that he and Amrod really were two halves of the same spirit, consigned by a strange fate to dwell in separate bodies. By embracing his brother he was embracing himself, and they were together whole, safe, at peace. 

For the space of a hundred slow breaths they were almost as one, and then the yellow disk of the sun slipped over the mountains. The clouds went white and the sky turned blue. 

Amrod turned to face his twin, but said nothing, instead raising a finger to Amras's cheek and brushing along it affectionately as he moved away. In a moment, his footsteps could be heard tramping down the tower stairs, while Amras stood for a lingering moment yet on the tower, smiling brightly into the dawn.


End file.
